


Monster Tails

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Deer Boys, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Monster Anatomy, Multi, Naga, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro, a feared naga, spots two deer boys running from humans in the dead of night. He decides to intervene and give them a place to rest for the night while he watches over them. And then those deer boys go into stress induced rut. </p><p>Lucky for them Shiro likes to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Tails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TekkaWekka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TekkaWekka/gifts).



> Tumblr prompts/suggestions strike again! Monster boy filth.

He tasted them on the air before he heard or saw them. Two of them, berry sweet and ripe for the picking and- his tongue flicked out as he roused from his sleep- very afraid. Their fear was sweet too and a little salty as they sweated it out into the air. He cracked open an eye; it was nighttime but the darkness means little to him because he could see the world in echoes of heat and through ‘vibrations’. 

It was easy to pick them out. Very rarely did anyone, save the occasional human poking into the ruins, come to this part of the forest. His fellow creatures were much too afraid of the monster who lurked in the trees and in the ruins of the Old Gods to dare. These two were different, their flickering heat standing out like a spotlight, calling to him through the thick forest. It was almost hypnotic watching them, red hot all over save where their hearts are pulsing blue-white, slipping in and out of the trees.

They were tempting, fanning a hunger deep in his gut to life, but their presence alone wasn’t enough to move him. It was dark and cool out but his rock was so very warm and inviting. But there are others, following them, who didn’t smell as sweet nor do they burn as brightly. Humans, probably, and very bold ones to be hunting here in his forest so late at night. 

Or perhaps just foolish. 

He lifted himself up from the rock he’d fallen asleep on and unwound his long body, stretching his arms above his head as he did. He can feel his spine shift and there was a crawl of delicious pain that follows. Then, smiling slightly, he slithered into the trees to reach up and pull himself up into one, body curling around the sturdy trunk. 

Moving from tree to tree silently, barely disturbing the leaves, was a simple thing for him. Years of practice had made it so this and moving through water with barely any ripples came easily. It let him moved over the humans without them noticing, though a few shivered as his shadow touched them.

They were surrounding their prey, pushing them back towards a sheer rock wall.  Their torches burned brightly and a few were on horses, carefully picking out a path as the ones on foot hurried. They all looked determined, faces screwed up and eyes gleaming, and he could taste their victory in the air. 

They knew the hunt was almost over and were ready to collect their prize. 

And that prize was, he could now see as he slithered through the treetops, two deer boys. They had reached the rockwall and all of the fight seemed to drain out of them as they realized they were cornered. The smaller one, black fur spotted with white, torso displaying lean muscle, had a sword in his hand and fell into a ready position just in front of the other. That one stepped back as he unstrapped a bow from his back; his fur was brown and spotted and he was thin, wiry, in comparison to his companion. The humans were spilling into the small clearing, weapons raised, stinking of sweat and sour triumph.

He let out a soft sigh.

He was going to have to intervene it seemed. This was his territory after all and he was the only one allowed to hunt here. 

\---

Lance could feel Keith’s simmering anger in the air as they turned back to face the trees they’d just emerged from. They were both fatigued, breathing hard and dripping sweat. They were built for forest running, powerful legs and steady hooves, but it was dark and they were in a part of the forest they didn’t know with a pack of very persistent, very armed, humans on their tails. If it were daylight and they were in their own territory getting away would have been easier and they never would have become so winded doing it.

This wasn’t how their night was supposed to go. The Goddess Allura had called on them, as her messengers inside the forest, to check on one of her temples because humans had left an offering to her. It was a rare thing, the Altean gods had long since fallen out of favor with the humans and their huge forest was largely steered clear of because humans were afraid of the things that lived within it, and worthy of investigating. 

The temple was on the edge of the part of the forest they didn’t tread into. Rumors of a great beast lurking there, haunting the ruins of the gods’ temples, kept them out; something huge with fangs that dripped poison and claws made to tear the flesh of deer boys foolish enough to stumble into his territory. They’d been wary of visiting but orders were orders so they’d gone, keeping an eye on the black barked trees, curtains of creeping ivy and twisted vines that draped them, and their ears open for any noise from inside those trees.

What they hadn’t been focused on what the humans who had gathered inside of the temple until they were at its threshold and it was much too late.

They’d found the offerings, yes, but they’d also found humans ready with ropes and swords and clubs inside and more humans on horseback when they’d stumbled back out. They’d been lurking in the trees, ready to help capture and kill them. He had heard, from the God Coran, that humans had once hunted his people for their skins and the velvet on their antlers. But that had been generations ago, before all of the magical creatures had retreated to inside of Altea. Things like that didn’t happen anymore. 

On the rare occasion they crossed paths with humans at all it was always amicable, if not a bit awkward, and over quickly. Never anything like this

Keith had wanted to fight them, had drawn his sword and managed to cut a few down before Lance used that as an opening to drag him away from the fight. He didn’t doubt Keith’s ability with his sword, and Lance was more than capable with his bow, but he also knew what vastly outnumbered looked like. It was smarter to run.

At least he’d thought it was smarter. Now, with the sound of booted footsteps and hoofbeats getting ever closer and torchlight weaving in and out of the trees, closing in on all sides, he couldn’t help but think he’d made an error in judgement. An error that was going to kill them. At least before they weren’t fatigued and could have fought harder and longer. 

Now...

His legs were burning and his chest was tight, the beating of his heart rapid like the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings. It hurt to breathe; he knew that was panic and fear making it so, that running from humans should have been easy but...there were so many of them. Panic was pushing in, whispering that running was futile and that this was it, that they were going to be captured and *skinned*. It was heavy, like a stone lodged in his throat and pressing down on his lungs, making it impossible to get air in. 

He shifted, notched an arrow, and cursed silently at how his hands were shaking. He was better than this, one of the best shots among those in Allura’s service (if not *the* best shot) and yet his arms felt like they were made of the densest stone and he could barely keep them up. 

He didn’t want to die. 

Keith was breathing hard just in front of him, sword held so hard Lance could see his knuckles turning white around it. He couldn’t see his face but he knew Keith well enough to picture it; lips pressed into a thin line, brows knotted together, color high on his cheeks, violet eyes narrowed and furious. 

The humans were starting to emerge from the trees, at least two dozen of them, maybe more. Their faces were distorted by the firelight some of them held and the intersecting shadows, more sinister masks than human visages. Their weapons caught the light as well, seemed larger in their hands. 

Lance swallowed thickly and tried to command himself to breathe evenly, to hold steady, not to falter. He took aim and drew back, fingers itching and

Someone screamed. He saw legs and arms flailing for a moment, lifted off the ground and half swallowed by the trees, and then go still and limp. The body fell with a hard thud and something, long and dark, dropped down with it in the space between the humans and Lance and Keith. 

Lance’s arms fell, bow slipping from limp fingers. 

Was this the beast of the Old God’s ruins? 

It, he, had the body of a man and the bottom half of a snake. He was tanned and muscular on the top, broad shoulders with a wide back and thick arms. Dark hair, long and held back with a scrap of fabric with a lock of white hanging loose, a long scar over the bridge of his nose, dark eyes. Iridescent black scales started at the just above the curve of his hips, small and interlocking, then grew slightly larger as they crawled over his snake half. He was black almost all the way around, but deep purple scales crept sporadically across his stomach until they joined together to run down his front in a wide strip. 

His snake half was slightly wider and thicker than his upper half and long. There was enough to prop him up, so he stood about six feet tall, and then there was still more than enough to stretch up to a tree and loop around a thicker branch. His hand was glowing a faint purple and what looked light lightning was dancing between his fingertips. Lips spread into and parted; Lance could see two curved fangs. A dark tongue flicked out between then, long and forked, and slid over plush lips. 

Lance’s knees quaked. 

Someone shouted in alarm, spat a harsh word, and then the humans were rushing forward. Time slowed for Lance, every event unfolding at a crawl as he watched. The ones leading the charge were met with a wave of purple light, emanating from the naga’s hand. Their bodies lit up as if fairy light had been jammed inside of the, bones glowing in sharp relief to their skin and then they crumbled into ash. Arrows flew towards the creature only to bounce harmlessly off of it’s hide. It’s tail came down from the tree, lashing out lightning fast and caught one of the archers, flinging it backwards into a tree. 

A sickening crack echoed through the forest.

Everything froze, arrows hovering in trembling fingers and no one daring to move. Even Keith had gone statue still, sword still clutched tightly in his grip, shoulders just barely rising and falling as he breathed. The beast rose up higher, the image of a cobra about to strike, and the purple glow around his hand crept up towards his elbow. 

“Leave or be burned to ash. Only I hunt here.” His voice was a low hiss; chills ran up Lance’s spine and the hair on his arms stood up. 

The spell broke, shattering like glass as the humans scattered like rats exposed to sunlight, some dropping their weapons and others shouting. The beast didn’t wait for them to leave, twisting his body around so he was facing them fully, seemingly dismissing them as unimportant. Keith stepped back a step, closer to Lance, and brought his sword up as the other darted back to push on his shoulder. They’d gone from dealing with humans to this which seemed much worse. 

Swords and arrows were one thing, magic that turned people to ash was something else completely. A huge naga with fangs and magic who probably wanted to tear them limb from limb and eat them or...maybe swallow them whole? 

He didn’t know how things like this ate their prey. Though he didn’t look much like he wanted to do anything terrible and painful to them. In fact he looked more concerned and curious than anything else. 

The beast’s mouth turned down slightly at the corners. “You’re unharmed?” 

He lowered himself as he spoke, tail coiling around itself until it had formed a loose series of circles for his upper body to rest on. The glow from his handed and with it went a sweeping tingling he hadn’t realized was there, static electricity crawling over his skin one moment and then abruptly gone the next. He rubbed at his arms, the lack of tingling making him feel strange in his skin; as if it were too tight around his bones and he was much too warm in it. 

“Well?” He prompted, eyebrow going up. “Were you hurt?” 

Lance looked at Keith who was already looking at him, confusion clear. Lance could understand that, he would have thought they were about be pounced on and eaten not...asked if they were hurt or not? After being saved? 

Was that what had just happened?

“We’re fine?” Lance said hesitantly. “Um. Thank you?” 

The naga nodded, dark eyes roaming over their bodies. His gaze had an almost physical presence, the weight of it making Lance want to avert his eyes. Then he looked away, peering out into the trees. 

“The temple is straight back that way. I’m sure you can find your way from there.” He raised an arm to point. “I doubt the humans will make another attempt tonight but if you’re concerned I could show you to a place to stay for the rest of the night and show you as far as the temple at first light.” 

The idea of trying to find their way back to the temple, and then making the walk back to their homes, was enough to make Lance was to sit down right where he was and not move ever again. It would take hours. The original plan had been to stay near the temple for the evening but with those humans potentially out there…

But he wasn’t so sure spending the night in proximity to a ‘beast’ who was supposed to horrible and terrifying. But was actually kind of...handsome? Maybe. 

The naga smiled, slitted eyes glittering in the moonlight and the tip of his tail swaying slowly. “I don’t bite.”

\---

The naga did not bite them. He did introduce himself as Shiro as he led the way through the forest to a small clearing. It wasn’t a long walk, which was good for Lance’s burning legs and aching hooves, and Shiro was incredibly polite the entire time. The clearing was next to a small river, there were some berry bushes growing along the bank, and crumbling stone ruins from what looked like a shrine that had fallen into disuse. The  grass was soft and smelled sweet as they clomped over it; he could see where it was bent down and in some places totally worn away in long winding paths.

He imagined Shiro, bare chested under the the sun, slithering too and fro. He felt oddly warmed by the thought; it lingered under his skin and squirming in his gut, long after he’d eaten his fill of berries and some sweet leaves and stretched out on top of one of the downed rocks. Shiro was gone, had hauled himself up into a tree in an absolutely disgusting show of strength that Lance had maybe admired because of how it made the muscles in his back ripple under his skin with a promise to be back in the morning to guide them out. 

Keith picked a tree to sit under, near a fire he’d managed to get going, sword in his lap and eyes alert. Lance didn’t bother trying to tell him to get some sleep; Keith would either do it or he’d sit up late and be paranoid but nothing Lance said or did would make any difference. 

So he flopped over to face the river, head pillowed on his arms in attempt to keep his antlers from rubbing against the rock. They weren’t very big yet, he’d shed a set not too long ago, and were covered in velvet and very very sensitive to touch. Having then scraping against rock, even a little, would keep him up all night so he needed to keep his head angled up. 

He managed it, he’d had enough practice with it, and sleep almost came but it seemed like every time he nearly drifted off a wave of stomach twisting pain would rush up on him. He groaned, bit his lip, and flopped around, hands over his stomach as he tried to push the cramps away. Heat started simmering under his skin and when he started to sweat he could smell something musky and thick. 

Between his legs was growing damp and not, he realized slowly, with sweat. He reached without really thinking about doing it then gasped softly at the shock that went through his body when his fingers brushed over the slit there. It was damp enough that just brushing over it left  his fingers wet and sensitive enough that he had to bite his lip to hold back a moan. 

His cock was hardening, sliding free of the slit and when he felt below that he found his entrance hot and loosened, easy to slide his finger into. 

Was he in rut? 

He felt like he was in rut, blood boiling and skin too tight on his body, cock throbbing and vagina wet but...

He couldn’t be in rut. 

He’d just gone into rut less than a moon cycle ago but-Oh! He pushed his finger in further, hips stuttering forward, then pulled it out to reach further back. Sensitive skin tingled as he brushed a finger over it; he licked his lips, blinking owlishly. He touched his asshole lightly, trying not to be too...stimulating; it was damp there too. 

He sat up, knees shaking as his hooves touched the ground, then turned towards Keith. The other was lying on the grass, curled up. Good, good. Keith was here. Keith would help him, had helped him during all of his ruts before. 

It must have been the chase. He knew that sometimes stress could...do...things. 

He needed Keith. 

He was already so hot, could barely stand up let alone walk, and thinking was hard. How had it crept up on him so far, taken hold so strongly? 

“Keith?” He whispered loudly as he dropped down onto the other, straddling his body. “Ngh. K-Keith.” 

Keith wasn’t asleep. His eyes were half open, mouth open as he gasped for air, face dripping sweat. Lance leaned down, eyes widening, and he nosed at Keith’s neck. Salt and musk. 

Oh. 

His hands moved over Keith’s chest, pulling at the thin red tunic he was wearing then pushing it up. Keith shifted off of his side and onto his back, Lance shifted with him, ended up straddling one his softly furred thighs. Keith felt amazing where his thigh rubbed against him and, as his hands found their way under the hem of the tunic to touch sweat slicked skin, he knew he was leaking over the other’s fur.

“Rut.” Keith ground out through clenched teeth. Lance felt along his stomach, fingers dipping into the lines of his abs then up further. The other grunted, mouth dropping again as his head tipped back. “Help?”

Lance nodded; he knew what to do. His fingers found Keith’s nipples, already hard and standing up, then pinched them, smiling lazily as Keith arched up under him. 

“You two are still...awake?” Lance jumped, pulling away from Keith’s body as if the heat had burned him, to watch as Shiro, on the edge of the clearing, stared at them. Lance made a noise in the back of his throat, low and rumbling; Shiro jerked back as if he’d been struck then, tongue flicking out, started to slither towards them. 

The way he moved seemed different somehow; his upper body swayed just so under the moonlight with each long movement of his lower body pushed him forward. His lower body coiled and stretched, flowing across the grass like black water, smooth and sensuous. His scales were brighter, glittering like dark gems in the flickering firelight as they undulated over his muscular body. 

“Lance.” Keith rasped, pulling his attention back from Shiro. 

And to himself. And Keith’s underneath him, stretched out on the sweet grass, watching him with heavy lidded eyes. He realized, heat rushing to his face, that one hand was still pinching and rolling Keith’s nipple but the other had crept down on it’s own to rub over the oozing slit between Keith’s thighs. He could feel the tip of Keith’s cock under his fingers, just starting to peek out. He started to pull away, mouth open to apologize, but Keith’s hand darted down to catch his wrist, holding it in place as he pushed up against his hand. Keith moaned softly, blinking up at him with cloudy eyes. 

Keith’s other hand snaked around his neck, fingers spreading and curling to grasp him tight, and pulled his down. He felt breath, hot and wet, brush his face and then their lips were smashing together. It was hard and clumsy, teeth clinking together and far too much tongue to be anything but sloppy and yet it was still so good. He moaned into it, licked into Keith’s mouth and chased his tongue while pushing his fingers into the slit. 

Keith grunted, legs falling open further and his hips rolled up again. His knuckles rubbed along the length of Keith’s dick, hardening, thickening, pressing out into the open air, and his fingertips pressed into slick folds. The tip rubbed against his palm as he pushed his fingers in deeper; it was wet and slick inside, muscles clenching around Lance’s fingers like Keith’s body was trying to drag him in. He curled his fingers inside of Keith as his palm rubbed against his cock, pressed his knuckles up into slick walls, and drank in Keith’s high pitched noise. 

The sound of grass rustling pulled him away from his friend, spit hanging between them and panting breaths brushing over his cheek. He looked over his shoulder towards Shiro; the naga had slithered closer, lips parted just enough for his fangs to be visible. His eyes were dark slits, like a lake at night or the sky before the stars came out, and hungry. Lance’s eyes slid downward, down to his stomach and where the skin flowed into the dark purple of his underbelly scales. They seemed to flex as Shiro moved, rolling with each slither of his tail. The purple lightened in color in one spot and Lance could see there was an opening there; it hadn’t been visible before with how dense the scale pattern was but now the slit was opening up. He could see two cockheads, wet, glossy, and as black as the scales along his back, sliding free of the opening; the heat under his skin flared up and he rocked against Keith again.

Lance’s mouth went dry. 

He wanted him. 

He was close enough to touch and Lance did just that, hand leaving Keith’s fur to press against Shiro’s underbelly; he was cooler, scales surprisingly soft and almost leathery to the touch. 

He opened his mouth to ask for it but Shiro hissed softly then touched him, fingers sweeping down his spine then brushing the base of his tail. He pushed into the touch then moaned as Shiro’s mouth, cool against his heated skin, found his neck. He felt fangs rasping over his skin and a chill crept over his nerves. 

"I know what you need." Shiro murmured. 

**Author's Note:**

> ...yep.


End file.
